Impossible
by RandomRyu
Summary: Javert has been feeling ill lately, and he doesn't want to come to terms to why he has been feeling this way. Mpreg. Rated M just in case.
1. Chapter 1

Javert stepped into M. Madeleine's office, going to make a report as usual. He was hesitant to report today, for he has been feeling sick lately. He threw up this morning and has been feeling light headed and dizzy; wanting to stay in bed and sleep, or even just lay there. It was so unlike the inspector who got up early in the morning to start his rounds.

Javert sighed as he stood up straight and stood in front of his superior, doing his best not to think of that blurry feeling in his forehead and the bile rising in his throat.

"Monsieur Le Maire," Javert bowed slightly, his left hand on his holster that held his sword.

"Inspector," Madeleine flashed a warm smile in his direction, averting his gaze up from the scattered papers on his desk. "What news do you have for me today?"

Javert cleared his throat and began to explain the usual about criminals in the streets and a man he had arrested the previous day as the mayor looked over him. He felt his cheeks flush. This always happened around the mayor, even after they got together a mere few months ago. He didn't know how it happened, it was all a blur. Madeleine invited the inspector over to his house for dinner and afterwards he remembers sitting across from the brunette and the tension was so thick that it was uncomfortable. And then be found himself kissing Madeleine and grabbing at his coat to pull him closer; the roaming hands and warmth.

After that night, everything was different. Javert went over Maleleine's house more often for dinner, sometimes even staying the night. But he usually excused himself home and walked back to his own house in the darkness; thoughts running through his mind at full speed. Self- loathing for partaking in such a thing with a man that reminded him of a convict from years ago, hating himself even more for enjoying it.

And when he got home, it was a sleepless night.

It was two weeks ago the sickness and headaches had started, and the odd cravings and mood swings. It was so unlike himself, he thought he was losing his mind. He had the symptoms of a pregnant woman. 'It's impossible,' He had told himself over and over again,' I am a man, it's impossible.' He thought it was all a twisted dream and he would wake up soon. Hopefully.

He had refused to tell M. Madeleine about these recent events and feelings, for he didn't want to sound completely insane. So he acted as he usually did around the other man, keeping his posture and speaking in a stern voice.

"Are you feeling ill, Inspector?" M. Madeleine spoke up suddenly, seeing Javert's expression turning into a pained one.

"I am perfectly fine, Monsieur Le Maire," Javert nodded slightly, keeping his posture straight.

"Are you sure? You look like you're in pain," Madeleine pressed, a look of concern on his features. "You may tell me if something is wrong."

"I assure you, I am not ill," Javert's voice wavered slightly as he spoke. "I must go back to my post, Monsieur, I will report to you again later in the day," Javert bowed and didn't wait for Madeleine to speak or bid him goodbye; turning on his heel and taking long strides out of the office and into the crowded streets of Montreuil-sur-Mer, leaving the Mayor in a state of concern and confusion.

* * *

**I don't even know what this is oh my god. Don't take me seriously, I'm not serious. **


	2. Chapter 2

Javert had went out on his post as usual after he had left the mayor's office. He almost said it, almost confessed to his 'illness'—but he refused to, it was embarrassing; impossible, at that! He was a man, he couldn't bear a child. It was against nature, against anything logical. He dubbed himself as going insane, and this was just him. 'It's just me, this will pass-' He told himself that whole day as he paraded the streets; fighting off the odd mood swings of sadness, anger, and a mixture of emotions that was overwhelming for him. The cravings had started up again in the middle of the day, and they were very out of the ordinary. He craved things sweet that he usually didn't prefer like cakes and pastries. It was hard to fight off the urge to eat everything sweet in sight, but he did his absolute best to preoccupy himself with other thoughts such as the law and what he was going to report later to the mayor.

Later. Later he was going to go back to see M. Madeleine! The realization hit him near noon and he felt like he was—anxious? This was the first time he had felt this way other than when he was invited over Madeleine's house those first few times and feeling that thick, warm tension between them. Now that that was broken, nothing was a surprise and the tension was gone, but in that place there was now anxiousness and…fear? The brave, stern inspector fearful? He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to think about how he felt at the moment. He blamed himself for this, for this 'pregnancy.' He felt like a teenager going through all of this, for it was a shock to him and he still had a hard time coming to terms with it. How was he going to tell Madeleine and not sound like a complete crazy person? It was impossible.

He didn't know how long he paced, how long he walked around the town. He just needed a distraction from his overwhelming feelings and thoughts, needed to calm down. He had to go report to the mayor soon in a mere few hours; still dreading it. What was he to report? Nothing out of the ordinary happened today—with the law. With him it was a totally different story. 'I've been craving sweets, I want to lay down and cry, and I want to punch someone in the nose. Also, I'm pregnant!' Yeah, no. He couldn't say that so easily, he couldn't. He had to keep this from the mayor, no matter how close he was to him. He knew that his stomach was going to become larger over the months—what would people say of him? Would they make fun of him, would they taunt him and call him fat? That's what it would appear as, if no one knew the secret. But it would become odd, since he was only 'gaining weight' in his stomach area…he hated to think about it.

Before he knew it, he had to make his way over to the mayor's office. He took long strides, but hesitated at points and tried again to will off that anxious feeling. It was getting dark, the suns setting and the sky becoming a mix of yellow and orange. It was calming to gaze at, and for a moment it did calm him down. But when the mayor's office was in sight he took a big breath and exhaled before he stepped inside.

"Monsieur Le Maire," Javert greeted his superior with a slight bow, as usual. It was nothing out of the ordinary. This time, though, he tried to keep his cool and stay calm. He had to, or else Madeleine would ask of him if he was ill again—and what if he had to tell him. 'No, I can't. I couldn't,' He thought to himself, keeping his gaze fixed on the man sitting at the desk in front of him.

"Inspector," Madeleine smiled up at him, having that kind expression on his features as always. He was always kind, always so generous and helpful to everyone. Javert never caught a moment of the man being rude or unkind in his months at Montreuil-sur-Mer. It was such a different personality from Javert; the strict, stubborn, commanding inspector. "What has happened today?"

Javert gulped, wondering what he should say. It took him a few long moments to find his voice.

"Nothing out of the blue has happened today," The inspector lied, averting his gaze to the front of Madeleine's desk. "No one has been arrested and everything seems to be in line at the moment," He explained the best he could. _I have something to tell you, it might sound crazy and you have every right to tell me so, but I think I may be pregna-_

"Thank you, Inspector," Madeleine nodded," Also, tonight would you like to come over for dinner?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. That warm, loving smile was still on his lips; getting up from his desk and making his way over to Javert, standing in front of him. He was taller than the inspector by a few inches, looking down at him.

"Yes—Yes, that would be great," Javert answered after a few moments. 'Why did I do that, Why did I do that, Why did I do that—' He scolded himself in his mind, keeping a calm and collected expression on the outside.

"Great. You are excused from your shift for today. Go to my house in an hour," Madeleine grinned at him as he excused the other man, nodding slightly.

And with that, Javert made his way out of the office calmly. When he got outside he was greeted by the chill of the nighttime air; making him shiver slightly. He kept his hands at his side as he made his way home , keeping his gaze to the ground with his lips pressed in a thin line.

When he reached his house, he took off his hat and holster with the sword right when he stepped in; leaning it near the door so he could get them the following morning and report to Madeleine again, as he usually did. Every morning, every night. Sometimes even in the middle of the day. It really mattered how everything was going on the town and how the law was being treated. If someone was breaking the law or someone had gotten arrested, he reported it to the Mayor soon after it had happened so he knew what was going on.

Javert had sat down on his bed and buried his face in the palms of his hands, allowing a sigh to escape him. 'What an odd situation,' He laughed, but it wasn't a happy one. It was more of a confused, irritating sounding laugh rather than a joyful one. He never thought this would happen to him of all people, and especially a man! It was normal for females to get pregnant, which often happened to the women of the street; the whores down by the docks who gave away sex for money in returned. He was sure they were filled with sexual diseases and were most likely pregnant at least once; wondering what they would actually do with the baby once they had it. Or if they got rid of it before it was even born. Those whores made him sick. They made him think of his mother and think of the way he was raised in a jail. But he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind at the moment. That was the last thing he wanted on his mind right now on top of all these confusing thoughts and self-loathing.

For now, he laid down on his bed with the covers and blankets under him. He wasn't sleeping, not yet. He just lay there, staring up at the dull wooden ceiling with a candle flickering on the bedside table. One hand went down to rest on his stomach, and he pat his stomach for a few moments. Nothing was there—yet. But he knew soon that there was going to be. This was distressing to him, he hated this. He didn't want to have a child, it was impossible, there was no way this could happen. He kept telling himself that this was a dream and that he was just going to wake up soon. Or he was in a coma. Either or, he just wished he would wake up and be the normal, not pregnant with the mayor's baby. And the mayor resembling a convict that the inspector has been chasing for years. He was disgusted with himself. He wished he could just die right now, or better yet wake up from this twisted nightmare. He pinched himself—nothing. This was real and he had to grasp the fact, but he couldn't get his mind around it.

Turning on his side so he faced the wall he sighed, laying there for the time being. He would rest until he had to go to the mayor's house.

* * *

**Oh my god this has become serious. I'm so done with myself. **


	3. Chapter 3

An hour passed, and Javert found himself walking out in the cold again with his hands to his side; this time he didn't take his holster, sword, or hat with him. He had no need for it since he was going over the mayor's house. The last few times he had brought it, Madeleine told him to leave them home and now worry, he was safe in his presence. Javert did feel safe in the man's presence. But the thought of him being the convict name Jean Valjean made his stomach churn and bile rise in his throat. A part of him was satisfied with what he was doing with Madeleine, getting so close to him and allowing his superior to touch him in ways no one else has before; allowing him to be kind and even love him. It was so unlike anything else, it was the first time for this kind of experience for Javert.

Before he knew it, he found himself at the mayor's doorstep and rapping his knuckles against the wooden door to be let in. After a few moments, Madeleine opened the door and grinned when he saw who it was behind it.

"Come in, come in. Dinner is right in the kitchen, it's just finished," Madeleine led the inspector into the house as he usually did; closing the front door behind him so the cold air didn't get into the house. A warm fire cracked near the relaxing area, illuminating the room and making it feel settling and warm. But they were to go there later, for now they went into the dining room. Javert took his place on one side of the small table and Madeleine on the other. It became a regular practice now, they knew exactly what to do.

On the table was a setup of soup and bread, and two glasses of water near the edge of the plates. It looked delicious, Javert had to admit. This meal was often eaten between the two, and he had to say it was well made.

Picking up his fork, he took a spoonful of the broth and vegetables; blowing on it before he placed it in his mouth. It was a burst of flavor, and he hummed; approving of the dinner.

They sat there and ate in silence for a while, both of them glancing at each other now and then. It wasn't an awkward silence, it was normal. It was long past awkward, but there was still that underlying tension that suggested something was wrong. Javert glanced up at Madeleine when he began to eat his bread, but when the man caught the inspector staring at him, he averted his gaze elsewhere. He didn't speak of thinking he was a convict at all, he didn't bring up the topic. It was obscene to think such a thing about the mayor of the town especially. He had to respect him, do what he asked and report to him; do his job.

They had finished after a while and Madeleine had spoken up.

"Let's go relax, shall we?" He suggested, and Javert nodded. They got up and left the plates there for Madeleine's housekeeper to clean and made their way into the living space near the fire; taking their seat in the padded arm chairs and getting comfortable.

Javert let out a small sigh of relief as he got to sit down, having been walking around all day. A wave of tiredness swept over him, and Madeleine seemed to notice when he glanced over at the inspector.

"Are you feeling alright, inspector?" Madeleine asked, placing his book aside on a small table. He raised an eyebrow and rested his hands on his lap with a concerned expression on his features; his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Yes, I am fine," Javert reassured him, letting out a yawn; covering his mouth with his palm as he did so. One of his hands absentmindedly rested on his stomach. It was odd to think that a living human being was inside of him. "I'm just tired, is all." That was true. He was feeling exhausted, wanting to lay down and sleep the night away.

"You should rest," Madeleine pressed even if the inspector said he was fine, getting up from his chair and stepping over to the other man. "Come, you should lay down."

Javert was going to protest, but he stood up himself and followed Valjean to his bedroom. He was used to being led to the certain room, doing the usual and making himself comfortable. He unbuttoned his uniform jacket and slipped it off, draping it on a chair in the corner of the room, also kicking off his shoes and placing them near the chair so no one tripped over them and fell. Valjean did the usual also, taking off his jacket and layers of clothing so he was just in his underclothes. Javert couldn't help but stare since he was finished undressing first. The man had a defined back and broad, strong shoulders. There was always something that got to him though, that made him feel disgust and even more thrill when he partook in perverse acts with the mayor—his scars. The man's wrists were bumpy and darker than the rest of his skin; his back covered in thick white lines that were still faintly red around the edges. This is what threw Javert off, which made him as confused as ever. He was the mayor, the inspector kept on telling himself that. Though the man reminded him of a convict, and he felt terrible for thinking such a thing. He never spoke of it, not yet, at least. He kept it to himself, only thinking it over in his times alone and when he found himself staring at the man's scars. He remembers those times in bed when he smoothed his lips over those scars, and Madeleine had flinched back slightly. But Madeleine ended up apologizing and they went back to what they were doing and giving each other pleasure.

Madeleine always had his shirt buttoned up all the way to his neck and his sleeves always pulled down to hide these scars, for he felt self-conscious and afraid that someone would notice them. Especially the inspector. But he knew that Javert has seen them from their times in bed when he kissed them, looked him over and admired him when he wasn't looking.

Javert admired the mayor. He was kind and good-spirited, everything that he himself was not. Whatever happened, no matter who it was, if someone was in a time of need, Madeleine was there to help them. He gave money to the poor freely; giving away many francs a day. He even went into lengths such as breaking into people's houses, only to leave money on their tables where they would see them when they woke up or got home. This has happened to Javert a few times before, but he declined the offers and Madeleine would find the money on his desk in his office in the morning when he went to start the day. Javert didn't want to take from this man, didn't want his sympathy. But Madeleine didn't cease these offerings and gifts for the inspector, no matter what he said to decline and push away the objects and money. Javert hated getting sympathy, especially from someone that reminded him so of Valjean.

Valjean was a convict. He was strong, dangerous; not a force to be reckoned with. Javert remembered watching him get into fights with other convicts while they were working. The winner would always be Valjean, and the loser would end up bloodied and bruised. He was one of the most feared convicts out of all of them, but the guards were rough with him. He was constantly chained up and restrained, and they always made him carry the heaviest objects. Javert remembers right before he was on parole and let him go, he made the man pick up a flag. He expected for Valjean—24601—To pick up the soaked material of the flag itself and drop it in front of the prison guard. But no, the man braced himself under the thick wooden pole to rest strain himself; resting it on his shoulder and slowly rising to his knees, going a few steps and then dropping it in front of Javert with a fierce look in his eyes. He made it look like the flag pole was as light as a feather.

Now, Javert found himself sitting down on the bed and pulling the covers aside; settling onto the mattress and pulling the blankets up to his shoulders. He was encased in warmth, comfortable. He let his eyes close for a split second before he felt more weight on the bed and arms wrap around his waist; warm puffs of air on the back of his neck. Javert was hesitant, but found himself settling down and relaxing in the other's arms. His hands still clutched the blankets up to his chest, but both of the men's legs were tangled together; against each other. Javert let out a sigh and allowed his eyes to close yet again, but he didn't fall asleep right away.

"You may sleep, rest," Madeleine planted a kiss to the back of Javert's neck; nuzzling the skin slightly. Javert let out a breath and only nodded in response. He was torn between telling the man now about his secret, but he couldn't bring himself to say those words. He knew that in the morning he would be throwing up again, most likely. It's been happening almost every day to every other day since a month or so back. He hated morning sickness, hated throwing up when his stomach was empty of anything other than dinner the night before. He usually didn't eat breakfast now since he was just going to throw it up again, so he just settled on a glass of milk or water to keep him until lunch time.

Madeleine's breathing was steady on the back of his neck; warm puffs of air against his skin. He was comfortable and relaxed under the sheets and in the mayor's arms, and he found himself falling into a deep sleep in no time, the last thought on his mind having to do about what would happen in the morning.

* * *

**I hope this chapter was okay! I'm actually serious about this now, and this is actually fun to write oh my god. But yeah, I'll be working on the next chapter over the next few days. I'm going somewhere Wendesday for spring break, but I'll try to work on chapter 4 and on when I can! uwu**


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